take your places
by glowing neon
Summary: remember your lines, it's time for the curtain call. except this isn't a play, no; this is real life, and no-one sticks to their scripts. so when a weasley does something draco considers highly out of character, he can't help but wonder what made him do it. / charlie and draco, the way it should be. a two-shot for laura [someoneakame].


/

prologue – the traditional introduction to our hero

Once upon a time, there was a man who finished school and left his family home in search of something to do with his life. And, as the story goes, it was there that he fell in love. It was love at first sight, in a way; Charlie looked up at them, with their heads held high and eyes full of pride. And from that moment on, he knew he would always treasure them and care for them.

The reason why the previous sentence said _love at first sight, in a way_ instead of simply _love at first sight _happens to have something to do with the simple fact that Charlie had fallen in love with a dragon.

Not just any dragon, though – a Hungarian Horntail, the most vicious of Dragons and, incidentally, the most proud.

This confused his family and friends somewhat; after all, Charlie was known for being a kind man, and not one to take any shit from anyone. To willingly spend so much time with a being so polar opposite to himself was remarkably out of character.

Therefore, the chances of this decision foreshadowing the events of the remainder of our story are rather high.

.

/

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act i – like a domino

Despite being only sixteen, he's the King of Slytherin; something that probably spawned from his father's wealth and his mother's flawless features. He's got an arrogance to match – don't they all? - and an ambition to make a name for himself.

So when his father tells him about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament, he can barely contain his excitement, dropping hints of his knowledge to his friends, just to remind them of his superiority.

(Not that he needs to; the name _Draco Malfoy _is enough.)

When he puts his name into the cup, he doesn't _cheat _or anything – no, Draco's not one to stoop to that level. He is, however, very confident that the goblet will pick the best champion.

And the goblet spits out his name, just as he knew it would.

.

Sometimes, the rest of the school stops and stares.

They point and talk among themselves in hushed tones, talking about the boy who they'd rather weren't representing them. And Draco couldn't agree more. He doesn't want to be the hero of Hogwarts; he hates the place, and all the people in it. Which is why he's determined to show them wrong.

Unlike his father, who was left disgraced and pitied after the Dark Lord fell, no – this Malfoy was going to make his family great again.

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/

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act ii – first glance

He overhears the stupid oaf talking about a _special surprise_ for the giant woman. He doesn't intend to follow them at first, but when Draco hears him hinting that it'd be helpful for her Champion, he's all ears. Before long, he's darting from tree to tree, careful not to tread on any leaves lying around the base of the trunks. Once or twice he thinks that Hagrid's going to catch on, and he thanks his lucky stars for the cover of darkness and a hastily-cast _Muffliato _charm.

When the pair comes to a halt, Draco skirts carefully around them to get a closer look. He can feel the blood rushing from his face as he realises the sheer height of these things. _I have to face one of_ these? he thinks, trying to regain some of his usually-present composure. His eyes dart from dragon to dragon as the oaf points at each of them in turn.

And (as fate would have it) his eyes settle on a lean redheaded man leaning against a tree, deep in conversation with another man. _He must be a dragon tamer_. The man looks away from his companion for a moment, glancing quickly over the clearing. His face is freckled and weather-beaten. His eyes pause as they pass Draco's hiding spot, and the Slytherin casts a quick Disillusionment Charm. The man's confused, but appears to shrug it off.

Draco's seen enough. Time to go.

(What happens next has nothing to do with fate, and everything to do with clichéd storytelling.)

As Draco turns around to leave, he walks straight into something. Uttering one or two crude words, he walks around it – or, he tries to. Except the _thing _suddenly has hands and a wand, and now the thing is pushing Draco against a tree.

"What the hell…?" Draco begins, but the thing cuts him off.

"I believe I'm meant to be asking that question, Malfoy," the thing (_man, it's a man_) shoots back. Now that Draco's looking carefully, he can see the ginger hair and the sprinkling of freckles across his nose and he can't believe he was so stupid.

"Get your filthy hands off me, _Weasley._" He says the name with disdain, and the man nearly snorts.

"It's Charlie, if we're getting technical about it."

"I don't want to get technical about it. I'd just like to go, thank you very much." Draco tries to put some malice into his voice, but it's not an easy thing to do when you're being held against a tree. "Let me fucking _go, _Weasley."

"I ought to hand you in, and you know it," Charlie says, ignoring Draco's plea. The Slytherin looks like he's about to say something, but Charlie gets in first. "But I won't."

As he says this, the redhead lets his arms down.

And Draco runs.

* * *

**For: ** Laura (Someone Aka Me), co-captain of the HMS CharlieDraco. If you can read, chances are you'll adore everything she's ever written. One time, she wrote me Wolfstar and I _died. _


End file.
